Chapter 5 Super Mom Chapter 5

"Yes, ma'am. Marni came home crying and told me all about how Mira treated her. Because I'm an unforgiving person, I gave her one hundred thousand rupiah for her son's treatment. I gave it to you, Mrs. Ami, not owed it," said Mrs. Asmi proudly.

"Ih ... I didn't realize, Mom, that Mira was that bad. I wouldn't want to have a neighbor like her," said Ami, pointing at me.

"Yes, Mom, I don't want to either," said Ms. Asmi.

"Mira, you go already! Just buy the oil at another stall," chased Bu Ami, who had been consumed by Bu Asmi's words.

Apparently the saying is true, that the mouth is sharper than a razor. Marni's words that I had yelled at her made Bu Asmi and Bu Ami hate me, and I even got blamed, and even kicked out of the stall.

"But, ma'am, that's not the story. You two have misunderstood me," I shouted, trying to defend myself because I didn't feel like doing it.

"Never mind, Mira, how can a thief admit that he's a thief. If all thieves confessed, the jails would be full, and the police would have nothing to do." Mrs. Asmi didn't want to listen to my defense.

"That's right, Mrs. Asmi. You go, find another stall! It's better to lose one customer, than to have a customer who has no sense of empathy." Ms. Ami threw me out again.

She told me to find another stall to shop at, and she was even willing to sever the buyer and customer relationship with me. Because it was useless for me to stay there, I quickly left Bu Ami's stall and returned home.

I didn't buy oil from another stall because I already felt sad and emotional. Their words brought me down. Arriving home I cried, I poured out all my sadness. If my savings were enough to buy a house, I would buy a house far away from this village.

"Assalamualaikum," said my second child, who had already returned from school.

"Waalaikumsalam," I replied from the kitchen.

When my son came, I was frying tempeh and tofu in flour. I fried using used cooking oil, which was still worth using. Fortunately, I still had some oil from frying onions yesterday, so I could use it to fry tofu and tempeh this time.

Honestly, I'm too lazy to buy oil from other stalls. I'm afraid I'll get the same treatment from the stall owner, as well as buyers who happen to shop at the stall. Like what Bu Ami and Bu Asmi did earlier.

"Mah, what are you cooking?" asked my son, who had now changed into his normal clothes.

"Mama is frying tempeh and floured tofu, dear. Do you want to eat now?" I asked back, after answering my son's question.

"Yes, Mah, I want to. Is there any fried chicken left, Mah?" my son asked again.

Arkan asked me about the fried chicken that Mas Romi bought from the market yesterday. I deliberately boiled all the chicken, which Mas Romi bought using yellow seasoning, so that if you want to eat just fry it.

"There is, dear. But later, after Mama finishes frying the tempeh and tahunya. It's better now for Arkan to wash his hands first, so that I can fry the chicken later."

"Yes, Mah," said my son who immediately went to the bathroom, then came back and sat on the chair next to the dining table in the kitchen. It was a simple dining table made by my husband.

Although it was a tenement, it was quite large. With two bedrooms, a front room, kitchen and bathroom. After I finished frying the tempeh, I continued frying the chicken. After that I prepared a meal for Arkan.

"Arkan, this is the food baby, finish it!" I thrust a plate of rice, along with a side dish in front of Arkan.

"Thank you, Mah," said my son, accepting the plate of rice and side dishes that I gave him.

"Yes, dear," I replied.

Arkan prayed before eating, after which he ate very heartily. I also ate, while accompanying Arkan. We ate solemnly, without a word coming out of our mouths. After eating, I immediately washed the dirty dishes, as well as the used cooking utensils.

"Mah, earlier when Arkan came home, Arkan was reprimanded by Mrs. Ami. She said Arkan shouldn't have any more snacks at her shop. What's wrong, Mah? How come Ms. Ami said that? What did Arkan do wrong to Ms. Ami?" asked my son, as he washed his hands.

Teg!

My heart throbbed with pain as I heard Arkan speak. How could Mrs. Ami say such a thing to a child as small as Arkan who knew nothing.

Continued...